Free My Rebellious Heart by Samantha James Page B

wondered bitterly if he knew what that word cost her in dignity.
    "And give you the chance to bolt again?" Thorne crossed his arms over his chest and arched a haughty brow. "I think not."
    More than anything Shana longed to deliver a stream of curses at the top of her lungs, but something in his arrogant proclamation held her back. And indeed he al owed her no privacy.
    Her composure in shambles, in the end it was Shana who turned away, presenting him with the slender lines of her back. It gal ed her to remove her clothing in front of a man, for never before had she done so. Her fingers were made clumsy by fear and outrage—and the certainty that he surveyed her every move. Yet somehow she managed to maintain a modicum of modesty, slipping her gown over her head, then removing her night clothes behind the screen of her gown. When she'd finished, she hurriedly plaited her hair in one long braid down her back.
    She had barely turned than he was striding toward her. He grabbed her green velvet cloak from the peg on the wall and thrust it on her shoulders.
     
    Shana looked on uncertainly when he seized yet another cloak and spread it on the floor. He dropped a pile of clothing he'd pulled from her chest onto it then proceeded to tie the ends together. The task completed to his satisfaction, he rose to his feet. His fingers curled tight around her arm, he pul ed her from her chamber. Shana was forced to keep pace as he steered her through the keep and outside toward the stables.
    The haze of night stil clung to the earth, but a rosy dawn pinkened the eastern horizon.
    Shana's pulse leaped when she spied a sleepy stableboy, rubbing his eyes, stumble through the door. Thorne stopped short and jerked her close. "Tel the boy you are seeing me on my way and want two horses saddled." His grip on her arm tightened to a point just short of pain.
    "And no tricks, princess, else the lad wil die. Do you understand?"
    A shudder of revulsion coursed through her. He held her flush against his chest, and it was as if his frame were forged of iron. Though it aggrieved her sorely to give in, she gave a jerky nod.
    "Good. Now move." His voice was like a clap of thunder in her ear.
    She stepped forward. It was difficult to appear as if naught were amiss, when in truth she felt as if her very world were being torn apart—and by none other than the man at her side!
    Somehow she managed to dredge up a faint smile, feeling as if her face would crack.
    "Good morning, Davy. Would you be so good as to saddle my mare, and Father's mount as well? He's a bit confused about the way back to Tusk, so I've promised to see him to the crossroads."
    "I won't be but a minute, milady." Young as he was, she hoped to convey a wordless message of distress to the lad. The earl stood near, the deep cowling of the robe pul ed up over his head to
     
    hide his features. But she nearly moaned aloud when the boy hurried to do her bidding with nary a glance at him.
    Her mare was saddled and brought forth. Shana took the reins and tried once again to capture the boy's attention, but it was no use. Behind her, Thorne suppressed a grimace when the boy led a gray nag forward. Apparently this was the horse the priest had used to travel here. Unfortunately, he could not object without giving himself away.
    They set out. Thorne deliberately set a slow pace, riding close to her mare—if the lady decided to take flight, he wasn't entirely sure the nag would catch her mare, which looked like a prime piece of horseflesh. They traveled for perhaps half an hour before he shoved back his hood, reached out, and grabbed her bridle.
    "Hold," he said abruptly. "We stop here."
    Shana watched as he dismounted, distinctly uneasy. They had stopped near the rushing waters of a stream. She offered no resistance as he pulled her from her mare. She stood warily as he ripped the robe from his body. Beneath he wore tunic and hose. He stuffed the robe inside a pouch tied to his saddle. Without a word he